The First Bowl
by increak96
Summary: A cute story about Naruto's first bowl of ramen. ONESHOT!


**A\N: Just a quick Naruto oneshot. My first Naruto fic, actually! Um... yeah, Naruto's first bowl of ramen. Couldn't get the idea out of my head... so... ^^**

**By the by, Teuchi = Old Man Who Runs Ichiraku Ramen. (*whispers* I actually had to look it up... most of you probably already knew his name. *shame everywhere*)  
**

**Please leave a review! Enjoy~!  
**

* * *

Teuchi sighed heavily, dumping the last of the food scraps into the trash bag. It had been a very long, busy day, and he was more than ready for closing time.

"Papa, once you take out the trash, we can wash the dishes together, right?"

Teuchi nodded, smiling to his precious twelve-year-old girl. "That's right, Ayame. I'll be right back in." Still grinning, he walked out the back door and dropped the bag into the dumpster, returning to the small kitchen and pulling over a step-stool.

Ayame hopped up onto it and sank her hands into the sudsy water, grabbing up a bowl and scrubbing away diligently. Teuchi smiled, picking up a dishtowel and waiting for her to hand it over so he could dry it.

The two of them stood in silence as they often did while washing dishes. They spent almost all of their time together, so there was really no reason to ask questions, because they already knew the answers. Sometimes, though, Teuchi would ask how she was, just in case.

"So, Ayame, how are you feeling today?"

She smiled up at him, handing over her dish. "I'm great, Papa! Are you?"

Teuchi laughed. "Mm-hmm. How is school?"

Ayame blushed lightly. "I… I didn't do very well on my math test… but everything else is perfect!"

Teuchi continued to smile with pride at his daughter. "That's alright. I'm sure, with practice—" Teuchi stopped mid-sentence, glancing towards the window. "Did you hear something?"

Ayame got very quiet, inclining her head towards the door. "No… I don't think so…"

"Hmm…" He shrugged his shoulders, stacking the bowls next to him. "Alright. As I was saying, with practice, I'm sure you'll improve."

She gave him a sharp nod and thumbs up. "I will, Papa! I promise!"

Teuchi opened his mouth to respond, stopping once again as he heard the noise from outside. Something like a door slamming or a something heavy hitting the ground.

"I… I heard it that time, Papa…"

Teuchi nodded slowly, putting down the dishes and moving towards the back door. "You stay inside, Ayame," he said, grabbing up a knife and holding it tightly. "I'll be right back."

"…Okay…"

Teuchi opened the door, stepping into the alley, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. "Hello? Is anyone out here?"

A soft sound like a squeak or a whimper came from behind the dumpster, and Teuchi frowned, inching towards the metal bin.

"Who's there?" He kept his voice steady, but tried not to overdo it. If it was a child who'd lost their way running around, he didn't want to scare them.

"I'm sorry!" A small, broken voice sounded out. "I'm sorry, I thought it was t-trash. Here, take it back!"

Teuchi lowered the knife as he stepped around the bin, looking down at a young blonde boy holding the bag of scraps in his outstretched arms. The child looked pitifully up at him, tears falling from his bright blue eyes and travelling down his whiskered cheeks… wait, whiskered?

_It's the Kyuubi!_

Teuchi's knife instinctively rose again, but a terrified scream made him stop.

"Please! Please, I… I'm sorry… I… I'm sorry… sorry… I… please… I'm sorry…"

Teuchi frowned, glancing at the door to the shop. _Are those the only words this boy knows?_

Ayame poked her head out, and Teuchi gave her a brief smile, waving her away so she would return to the safety of the restaurant. She slipped back in, Teuchi turned back to the boy.

"H-hey!"

The boy, who was trying to silently crawl away, jumped violently and whirled around, getting to his feet. "I'm sorry!" Then suddenly, a low growl rang out. The boy clutched his stomach, doubling over in a bout of hunger pains, before finally he collapsed to the ground.

_He stood up too quickly. In his condition, it doesn't surprised me…_

Teuchi glanced around, walking over to the unconscious child cautiously. Kneeling down, he pushed the boy over, revealing his pale stomach and bulging ribcage.

"You haven't eaten in days…" he muttered under his breath. Turning slightly, he saw the discarded food on the ground and felt a twinge in his chest. "No one deserves to eat garbage."

Sighing softly, he slipped his arm around the boy, lifting him from the ground while still holding the weapon in his other hand.

"Ayame! Turn on the stove! We need to make one more batch tonight."

"Yes, Papa!"

* * *

Cerulean eyes opened slowly, blurry images coming into focus as the black edges of his vision began to ebb away. A delicious smell wafted past his nose, and his stomach growled loudly, turning his cheeks crimson.

"Wh… where am I?" He grabbed his throat, his voice sending shivers of pain down his windpipe.

"Papa! He's awake!"

Panic stabbed through his heart, and he bolted upwards, fists clenching around the blanket that had been draped over his body. "N-no! Stay away!" He stumbled to his feet, knees wobbling and vision blurring.

"Sit."

Every muscle in his little body froze at the deep, commanding tone, and he dropped to his knees wordlessly. He gulped, swallowing glass again and rubbing his throat to ease the pain. His body ached, and the position he had put his legs in was being rejected severely by his nerve endings.

_The villagers… they beat me again…_

An older man sat down across from him and held out the dish in his hand, his lips a firm, thin line. "Here."

The boy shivered, wrapping his arms around himself and examining the food from afar. "What… is it?"

The old man's eyebrows shot up, and he pushed the bowl a little closer. "It's ramen. Eat some."

Blue eyes stared for the longest time, and then finally, he reached out a hand and took the bowl.

_Now what?_

There was a heavy silence in the room as the man and the girl waited for him to eat, but he didn't know what to do. He had used chopsticks maybe once in his life, and it had been a complete failure. And this ramen… it looks a little bit like soup. So… did he use a spoon first?

"Are you going to eat or not?"

The boy flinched. "I, uh, I'm sorry, I… what do I do?"

There was another round of quiet, and the blonde hung his head in shame, the tips of his ears burning.

"I see… Here." The man stood up for a moment and reached across a countertop, grabbing some chopsticks and sitting back down. He snapped them apart and handed them over. "Do you know how to use them?"

The boy sat the ramen down and took the chopsticks, hovering over the bowl and trying to get the sticks to work. "I… uh…" He chewed on his tongue, stabbing the noodles a few times before trying to wrap them around one of the sticks.

He jumped when the old man took a hold of his hand and repositioned the utensils. "Like this," he said, demonstrating how to work them.

"A…Alright." The boy smiled and did it a few times in the air before sticking it into the bowl and grabbing up a large bunch of noodles. He shoved them into his mouth, slurping them up and chewing a bit before swallowing.

It was like every pleasure sensor in his brain had exploded. All he saw were lights and streamers, the delicious smell of the best food he had ever tasted filled his nose, and his mind was shot up to cloud 9, floating on a pillow of bliss.

"It… it… it's delicious!" He dug in to the bowl after that, streaming the noodles into his mouth and shoving the toppings down before slurping all the broth in at least twenty seconds flat. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, old man!"

The old man stared at him for a moment, and then he smiled, laughing lightly. "You're welcome." He paused, squinting slightly. "By the way… what's your name?"

The boy opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped. "Um… hold on…" He bit his lip, looking down. This sometimes happened to him if someone hit him on the head too hard. He would forget his name or some other detail for a little while, but it would always come back when he thought hard enough. He was very proud of his name. After all, it was the only thing he knew for a fact about himself.

"Um… oh, yeah! It's Uzumaki Naruto!" He poked his chest with his thumb, grinning widely.

The man smiled lightly and held out his hand. "Teuchi. This is my daughter, Ayame."

Naruto blinked a few times, and then took the big hand in both of his little ones, shaking it. Then he turned to Ayame and did the same.

"Thank you… for the food…" Naruto tilted his head downward. "Thank you for smiling at me."

Teuchi blinked a few times, and then nodded. "Sure thing," he said, standing up and grabbing a bowl from the counter. "Take this for the road. Stop by some other time, alright?"

Naruto nodded and took the bowl in both hands, jumping up and down excitedly. "Th-thank you, old man!" He ran for the door, slowing to a stop when his feet hit the dusty roads. "Uh… wh-what's this called?"

Teuchi gave him a pat on the head. "It's ramen. Ichiraku's Ramen!"

Naruto nodded, bringing the bowl up to his mouth and slurping some more broth. "Mm! Ramen! It's my favorite!" He laughed again, running down the streets as fast as his little legs would take him, the wonderful treasure held tightly in his hands.

_Ramen, huh?_

Naruto tried to wipe the smile off of his face, but it was nearly impossible, so he let it stay.

_Thank you, old man… _


End file.
